


we will fall together (we'll catch ourselves)

by fourteentimes



Series: still turning out [4]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, M/M, Vampires, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourteentimes/pseuds/fourteentimes
Summary: A witch, a siren, a vampire, a fae, and a soft, squishy ex-human walk into a bar.(or: a loose monster hunter AU where Eichi tasks monster!Knights to hunt monsters)
Relationships: Sakuma Ritsu/Sena Izumi, Sakuma Ritsu/Suou Tsukasa, Tenshouin Eichi/Tsukinaga Leo
Series: still turning out [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870684
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "we will fall together" by streetlight manifesto (thanks niki)
> 
> nothing is chronological. fic is marked complete, but I may continue adding as the mood strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt ritsukasa & naptime & we are not the same and never will be

Ritsu’s hair is pillowy soft, for a creature of the night. And he purrs, when he pets him just the right way. Which seems a little backwards to Tsukasa, but he supposes vampires aren’t exactly his area of experience. “Just give it a rest. We’re not the same, and we never will be.” 

“But  _ if _ it were possible to--” 

“Suu-chan, drop it.” Tsukasa’s hand stills. Ritsu is pleasantly awake at the best of times, and drowsy at the worst. Sharpness isn’t a  _ thing _ with Ritsu, but his tone this time has an edge to it. “Don’t ask that kind of question. You’ll get the wrong kind of attention.” 

“Some attention is better than nothing at this point,” Tsukasa says quietly. Ritsu’s eyes snap open. The blood-red of them will never stop sending shivers up his spine. 

“No.” Ritsu reaches up. His grip on Tsukasa’s chin is like iron. “Don’t do it. You’re not like us. That’s what I like about you. Leave it like that. Just keep being our soft, squishy human. That’s what we need you for. So just take care of the ‘being human’ part that we can’t, and we’ll keep taking care of you.” 

“I don’t want to be taken care of, Ritsu-senpai,” Tsukasa says. “I’m supposed to be a Knight too.” 

Ritsu frowns. Pouts, really. Tsukasa doesn’t know if Ritsu  _ can _ be serious. He always just seems to land right back to cute. 

A vampire. Cute. His father would have had a fit if he knew the kind of squad Tsukasa had truly signed up for. Monsters hunting their own kind. He would have collapsed on the spot. 

“You’re cuter like this,” Ritsu says airily, turning over, the little shit. That’s the tone he always takes when he thinks he’s won. “And you taste better, so if that changes, I’m going to starve. I can’t believe Suu-chan would be so cruel, how coldhearted.” 

“Ritsu-senpai!” Tsukasa should dump him out of his lap. He should leave him here so he misses afternoon drill. 

He should  _ definitely _ make him eat his words. 

Soft, squishy human his  _ ass _ . If the rest of Knights can be monsters hunting other monsters, then Tsukasa can be one too. 

\---

It occurs to Tsukasa, in that distant, prey animal hindbrain, that he’s never actually seen Ritsu mad before. 

Maybe this is with good reason. 

“Stupid, stupid Suuchan, I told you, I--” Ritsu snaps his teeth--sharp, sharp vampire teeth--in frustration. His eyes are blown with only the thinnest sliver of red in them. He breathes sharp and fast. Shallow. 

The smell, Tsukasa realises sluggishly. His hand presses tighter to the wound in his stomach. It doesn’t staunch the blood. It does make Ritsu swallow  _ hard _ . 

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can offer. It’s all he can come up with right now. “I’m sorry, Ritsu-senpai, I--” 

Ritsu’s fingers dig hard into his shoulders. Hard enough that Tsukasa can feel them trembling. Hard enough that it hurts with a dull sort of ache. 

“You weren’t even wearing armor, what were you  _ thinking _ ,” Ritsu hisses, “and I can’t even--you’re  _ dying _ , Tsukasa, do you  _ get that?! _ ”

Hearing it from Ritsu is different. It’s different from feeling his side twinge every time he tries to get up, from the way his fingers are starting to go cold and the way his blood leaks more and more sluggishly over his fingers. 

It’s different too, he thinks, because that’s his name. 

Oh. 

“I don’t--” He’s breathing fast. Is he breathing fast? Is Ritsu moving? 

No. No, his vision is just starting to gray out. 

“Ritsu-senpai,” he says weakly. His hand is slick, too slick, with blood. He can’t hear what Ritsu says very clearly at all, but he thinks it might be his name again. 

What a waste. 

He really likes the way his name sounds when Ritsu says it. 

\---

“--you do that?!” 

“He was dying, what was I supposed to do?!” 

“Literally anything else!” 

It’s the crash of something splintering against the wall that wakes Tsukasa up from the restless haze. It’s his bed, and it’s his room, but it  _ feels _ different. Looks different. Smells different. 

He tries to form words, tries to get the attention of whoever is arguing-- _ Ritsu? Izumi? _ \--but his throat works and works and works. 

Thirsty. 

He’s so  _ thirsty _ . 

And something smells so,  _ so _ good. 

His body moves before he realises it, jolting into action to follow the smell until something clamps down hard around the back of his neck. 

The growling sound, he realises distantly, is  _ him _ . But that’s far and away from the fact that he can’t  _ reach _ , that his stomach  _ twists _ at the smell that is so, so close, so cloying and tantalizing that he  _ wants _ to devour. Even straining with all his strength, he can’t get free, snarling when he feels something wrap around him from behind, struggling against the grip holding him back.

“You did this. You’re responsible for this now. We can’t help you.” Tsukasa snarls, teeth gnashing as he tries to bite, tries to get anything more than the phantom taste on his tongue when he’s so  _ thirsty _ . 

“I had to.” The thing grabbing him wraps tighter, stronger, around him. Arms. Arms, those are arms on him, he thinks. Arms and the comforting scent of something-- _ someone? _ \--he knows, he should  _ know _ , but thoughts feel distant and secondary to the hunger.

“You didn’t.” 

“You know that I had to.” 

“I’ll do what I can to cover your ass, but you’re on your own. You know I don’t do fledglings.”

The heavy door slamming shut jars Tsukasa a little, makes his ears ring something awful until it feels a little more like he can think again, like he’s not desperately trying to gulp down a taste of something he can’t have, when a hand is laid over his eyes. 

“Tsukasa, s _ leep _ .” 

He really does like the way Ritsu says his name, he thinks, before he goes limp in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt eileo & witch hunter/witch au

The trap snaps shut before Leo even realises it's there. Eletricity arcs through his limbs in one instance, and then pain the next,, shaking his thoughts apart with ferocity. Even dragging air into his body hurts; he doesn't have enough breath to scream, not when the trap ramps up and his thoughts--and magic--goes skittering. His hands flex, into the dirty, scrabbling for weakness in the circle that he knows is there, has to be there, shit--

The relief is instant when he plucks and snaps the right thread, sagging into the dirt to catch his breath. His body aches, bone deep and twinging. Even rolling over is a chore, his vision swimming as he takes in the swirling colors of the trap laid around him.

This is witch's work. The magic lines in it are spider web-thing, criss-crossing over the circle like gossamer strings. Deceptively thin.

"That was fast work." Leo knows that voice, even though his thoughts all feel like they're ringing around in his head, and the words slide around a bit until they finally make sense.

"You." His voice is scratchy and thin. He must have been screaming. Eichi's lips curl in amusement.

"Your markets should be more careful about who is buying," Eichi says pleasantly as he circles the trap. "You found it out fast, though. I'm impressed."

Leo tries to sit up too fast, nausea slamming into him as he tries to swallow down the horrible taste of bile trying to claw its way out. "What do you want?"

"Some things have gotten quite out of hand, wouldn't you say?" Eichi sits down primly in front of the circle, in front of Leo. His coat is pristine, alabaster white; even in the darkness, it has its own kind of light. "Something is coming, and--"

"And you need my help." At least he can take comfort in the annoyance that flashes across Eichi's face at being interrupted. It's a cold comfort. "So decided trapping me in a cage was the solution."

"You can't argue with results." Eichi moves closer, and Leo crawls back. "I want to make a deal with you, Tsukinaga-kun. Work with me, and I'll protect you."

"Does this usually work for you?" Leo says, tracking the way Eichi's hand never strays far from his belt. There's a knife there. Probably for when he says no. "Because I'd say it's not working out great. If I refuse?"

"That guardian of yours--"

"If you touched him--"

"--he's rather _mortal,_ isn't he?"

Leo sags back with a scowl, like his strings have been cut. Of course Eichi knows about Madara. "You don't touch him, and I'll help you."

"I thought you might come around, Tsukinaga-kun. I didn't want to have to resort to such distasteful methods, but honestly, you leave me no choice sometimes." Eichi pulls a slender knife from his belt, but that's not a witch hunter knife. The blade looks too delicate, covered in filigree and jewels. Leo frowns. That's a ritual knife. "One last thing." Eichi hisses as he drags the knife through his palm until blood drips into the grass, gritting his teeth as he pushes his wounded hand into the circle. "Make a pact with me." When Leo looks down at his hand dubiously--delicate and fine-boned, but Leo's seen them break stronger witches than him--Eichi sighs. "A binding. So I know you're telling the truth. And I'll tell you the truth."

Leo shouldn't. You don't make deals with the devil. Especially not Eichi Tenshouin, who had more witch blood on his hands than any other hunter. Who could have--should have, maybe--killed him as soon as the trap came down around Leo. Whose hand Leo takes anyways after biting the meat of his own palm. The trap splinters apart around him, opened by Eichi. The last binding he made was with Madara, ages and ages ago, but the words still come to him all the same as magic rises through the air around them.

When it's done, there's a matching magic circle around their wrists, lines fine and neat and delicate.

"What now then, Emperor?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the prompt ritsuizu & monster au

The strip of beach is a quiet one that Eichi had found for him years and years ago. Izumi isn't sure if he made it or stole it or bribed some hapless witch to conjure it, but it's the closest he gets--the closest he's  _ allowed _ to get--to the sea. The waves lap at the shore, a constant, steady heartbeat of the world, and the water is pleasantly icy when he dips a bare toe in. 

The tiniest slice of paradise. 

"So this is where you're always hiding, huh?" 

That of course, he wouldn't be able to revel in alone. 

Izumi exhales. The stench of blood is thick on the wind as the vampire--Ritsu, his mind unhelpfully supplies--settles into the sand next to him. Motionless.

(The most unsettling part of the undead, of course, that for all they walk and talk and play at existence, they're still corpses, feeding on the energy and life of others. So he doesn't bleed, he doesn't sleep, he doesn't blink, he doesn't even  _ breathe _ . Disgusting.) 

There are still bloody trails cooling on Ritsu's skin, lurid red trails down his arms that still glow faintly with the heat of his kill. 

"You're not allowed in the water," Izumi says, in lieu of a greeting. 

"I'm all dirty, though."

"Should have thought of that before you came here," Izumi snaps, looking back over the water instead of Ritsu's delicately translucent skin in the moonlight. 

Living would have suited him, Izumi thinks. Death preserves him, a facsimile of how beautiful he must have been in life. Ritsu's cheeks are flush with stolen blood. His eyes are sharp in the starlight. 

"Do you miss it?" Ritsu says as he idly lifts a hand to his mouth. His tongue is a soft pink, and Izumi is resolutely looking anywhere else.

The waves splash hypnotically on the shore. "Be more specific." 

"Home."

The way Ritsu says it-- _ home _ \--with a clinical, practiced distance says more than Izumi could. Maybe he isn't the only one running from something. 

"I don't have one." Not anymore.

"You're out here a lot," Ritsu says casually. "I bet any time we can't find you, you're out here, aren't you?" 

"And if I am?" The waves lap more urgently against the sand. 

"You don't have to keep us so far away, you know," Ritsu says quietly. So quietly that Izumi almost doesn't catch him speak over the sound of water crashing against the beach and the sea rushing through his veins. "We know what it's like too. Being kept."

"That's not why I come out here," Izumi bites out. 

He doesn't miss it. The sea. Home. 

(Because it deserved to stay gone. Because if he lets himself remember, lets himself miss it, lets himself  _ mourn _ , then he admits it was  _ good _ , that it was something worth preserving, instead if a place bent on it's own destruction.)

(Because if he looks back, then he'll remember how painfully alone he is now.) 

"Then why?" 

Ritsu leans back on his hands, evidently finally finished with his meal. Izumi always thought the vampire prince would have cleaner manners than Ritsu does. 

(The casual intimacy between them is all the answer he needs, really. That manners and procedures and all that pageantry is for acquaintances, and no matter how hard Izumi's tried to keep them away,  _ they _ keep pressing closer.) 

"A reminder." Izumi closes his eyes, and for a moment, it's the lurid fluorescents of the deep sea, the vibrancy of the palace, the warm sunshine on a peaceful day wandering up to the surface. 

When he opens them, it's the full moon and this endless shore. 

"Come on, they'll notice we've both been gone too long," Izumi says. He dusts the sand off his frustratingly human legs as he stands. Ritsu makes no move to get up, not until Izumi sighs and reaches his hand down. 

"You'll see. That we really care about you too," Ritsu says as he grasps Izumi's hand, already back to his too-cool, too-dead temperature. "He's not the only one looking out for you." 

"He's the only one who knows exactly what he's looking out  _ for _ ." Izumi doesn't pull away when Ritsu laces their fingers together, though. 

"When you're ready to tell us, we'll listen."

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow my writing twitter [@satiIIquinart](https://twitter.com/satiIIquinart) for updates!


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